Is Cooking Manly?

I figured since I'd been writing so much about it, I'd have to address something. "Is cooking really manly?" Obviously eating is manly, why else would we always say the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach. But cooking the food isn't this epic thing like using a chainsaw or going out four wheeling with your F-350. Seriously, the most likely way to die is chopping off your finger with the chef knife and bleeding to death. More likely, you'll die from what your wife does to you, after finding out that you rinsed the blood off the lettuce and put it in the salad. Or so most men think...

What most men don't think about is that "cooking" has an important word inside it. Yep, it's "cook" and in order to cook stuff you've gotta get it hot. And when you get stuff hot, it smokes. And as Smoky Bear always says "where there's smoke, there's fire." And any guy knows that being a pyromaniac (somebody who plays with fire) is one of the most manly things on earth. Therefore, cooking is manly (Euclidean geometry has had a bad effect on my thinking, cause now I prove every point with a proof), so yeah.

Right now you've gotta be wondering why I'm using this phony logic on you to prove that I'm manly even though I cook. So now I'll give you a very non-phony story (it'll be internet-y instead): I was cooking dinner. I was making stir fry. To do this I boiled some pork for about twenty minutes to get it most of the way cooked. I chopped up veggies and a got a pan heating while the pork cooked. I was going to saute the pork and then add in the veggies. But like a good chef I knew I needed oil in the pan or else the food would burn. So I poured oil into the pan...and voile! I had a flaming pan like they do in all the casino ads on TV.

Only problem was this was a LOT of flames. Here's where the manliness part comes in. Instead of A. Screaming, B. Pouring baking soda on it and then screaming, cause the baking soda didn't work, or C. Calling 911 and screaming, like any properly programmed woman would do, I stood there and went "hmm." I then pulled the baking soda out and tried pouring on the pan; that really didn't work. So then I did the manly thing and grabbed the burning pan of oil and tossed in the oven where it would run out of oxygen to burn. *insert epically triumphant music* "Hmm,"it seems the pan fire got the oven fan thingy on fire. I briefly considered throwing the fan thing out the window, however insurance wouldn't cover enough of it to be worth while, so instead I ran and grabbed the fire extinguisher. As a side note I must mention this fire extinguisher had not been serviced since I was born. Proof positive those servicing guys are just fooling everyone into giving them money. So anyways I sprayed down the fan contraption and...um it was epic *insert really epic and triumphant music!*

So the lesson in all that is that cooking is a dangerous and epic task, only for the fittest, most agile, and quickest witted men...or your little sister.